


April Fools, Inc.

by the_fluffy_unicorn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Sabriel - Freeform, graphic depictions of emotional turmoil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-18 03:23:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10608279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_fluffy_unicorn/pseuds/the_fluffy_unicorn
Summary: in this world, Sam and Gabriel used to be together - until something happened, some weird twist of fate, Winchester luck - cal it what you may - and it resulted in Gabriel gone from the world. not even Chuck could bring him back or say for sure if Gabriel was dead or simply missing. Sam searched for ways to bring him back for years, but eventually his last hope vanished.almost a year after that he gets a mysterious phone call that just might be able to change things for the better.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SherlockianGirl14](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlockianGirl14/gifts).



Sam's phone begins to ring somewhere after 7 pm and he freezes in place, not sure if he’s hearing things. It’s one of his older phones, one he hasn’t used for a long time. He listens to its cheerful outdated ringtone while he rummages through the nightstand drawer. The phone sits at the very back, wedged between an old notebook and another old phone. He pulls it out, hesitates for a split second, and presses the green button.

“Hello?”

“May I speak to Sam Winchester, please?”

“Who’s – um – who’s asking?”

“This is Molly from April Fools, Inc., and I’m calling to confirm your standing order for tomorrow. You have the Deluxe Package, so there’s quite a few options available for you. Can you spare a few minutes of your time and answer a couple of questions now so that we can narrow it down and set you up with the best solution possible?”

“Uh,” Sam says. His head is spinning, and he isn’t sure why. It’s probably just a mistake. Wrong number. Wrong Sam Winchester. “This must be a mistake. I didn’t order anything from you.”

“Hold on a moment, please.”

Sam hears a click and the first few bars of some standard elevator music worm into his ear. It’s a bit too loud, so he winces and moves the phone away.

“Mr. Winchester?”

“Yes?”

“I apologize for the inconvenience, it appears that the order was placed in your name by a Mr. Tuesday. It was paid for in advance, so all we have to do now is get those specifications for your order – if you choose to accept it, that is.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know anyone named Tuesday. Are you sure you’ve got the right Sam Winchester?”

“You are currently located at a power plant on the outskirts of Lebanon, Kansas, is that correct? The building is listed as abandoned, the location subducted from all the development plans for the city, county and state, decently warded – although I could refer you to an affiliate company that deals in warding in case you wish to update your protection against metaphysical detection by the level 10 and up creation/destruction entities.”

“Creation/destruction entities,” Sam repeats, dumbstruck. “Levels 10 and up.”

“Major deities,” Molly supplies helpfully. “Those responsible for creation or destruction of some of the inhabited worlds. It looks like you are in agreement with your local ones, but you know what they say – better safe than face yet another apocalypse.”

“Apocalypse,” Sam says. “Right. Who are you, _really,_ and how do you know all of this about me?”

“April Fools, Inc. is a multiverse-wide company that specializes in pranks and practical jokes, from simple yet classic ones like the disappearing whoopee cushion or time-adjusted superglue to elaborate pranking strategies tailored to our clients’ personal preferences. We can make your wildest pranking dreams come true – unless they imply permanent demise of the recipient, of course. No joke is off limits if its intention is a good laugh!”

“Good to know, but you still haven’t answered my question.”

“Our company strives to bring the perfect pranking experience to our clients. We perform basic background checks to make sure we can provide the best options. All information is strictly confidential, of course, and can be disclosed solely to the client.”

Molly starts listing the options that come with the Deluxe Package, but Sam barely listens. He isn’t sure what to think of the whole thing – he doesn’t _want to_ be sure. He tries and fails shutting down the hope suddenly blooming inside him. It tugs at his heart – almost physical, almost painful – and whispers in his ear, fiery and fierce and strong, as if it hadn’t dwindled a little over a year ago. _Pranks,_ hope says, _Tuesdays. Do you still think it’s a coincidence?_

Sam closes his eyes, phone still in hand, and takes a deep breath.

“Excuse me,” he says, not bothering to wait for a pause in Molly’s sales pitch. “Does this Mr. Wednesday have anything to do with your company?”

 _Like, maybe, running it,_ he thinks.

“Mr. _Tuesday_ ,” Molly corrects him, “is a client. A very good client. I’m sorry, but I’m not at liberty to share Mr. Tuesday’s personal details with anyone but him. Company rules.”

She still sounds professional, but there’s a hint of apology in there, and Sam has a feeling that she wants to help. Company rules. Right.

“Okay,” he says. “Okay, let’s get through the options. You were saying?”

Half an hour later he’s exhausted his not-so-long list of friends, choosing the basic and most innocent pranks – to make them smile rather than anything else – but whatever this Deluxe Package is, it seems to include enough options to prank the whole planet, Heaven and Hell included. He considers pranking Crowley and Rowena – simply for the sake of getting to the bottom of the Deluxe Package – when Molly informs him that they could set them up for pranking each other, and then it hits him.

“Wait,” he says slowly, “hold on. Are you saying that I can pick anyone to play a prank on my behalf?”

“Yes, of course, it’s part of the special requests subsection of the agreement. Do you have anyone particular in mind?” She sounds a tiny bit hopeful and encouraging, and Sam knows he’s onto something.

“Can I request Mr. Tuesday to play one of the pranks for me?” It takes everything he’s got to make that sentence sound casual.

“It’s possible, yes. Although I’m afraid Mr. Tuesday’s circumstances are somewhat… complicated at the moment. It would take a lot of effort and resources on our part to meet your request. Are you absolutely certain that he is the one you wish to include in your pranking experience?”

“Yes,” Sam says, “Yes, I’m certain.”

“Your Deluxe Package should cover it, but, unfortunately, it would mean that the number of pranks available to you will be reduced considerably.”

“How many do I have?”

“Just one, I’m afraid.”

“Okay. Okay.” Sam pauses. His legs are about to give out, trembling, and he sags down onto the floor. His voice is calm and even when he talks again. “Here’s my final order. I’d like Mr. Tuesday to play a prank of his choosing, within the available range, on – on me.”

“On you? You’d like Mr. Tuesday to play a prank on you?”

“Yes.”

“One Deluxe Package gifted by Mr. Tuesday to Mr. Sam Winchester, including and limited to one Gold Standard Prank played by Mr. Tuesday on Mr. Sam Winchester, to be delivered not later than April 1, 2017, is that correct, Mr. Winchester?”

“Yes,” Sam says, glancing at the clock. A little less than four hours till midnight. He can manage the wait.

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Winchester, we hope you enjoy your Deluxe Package pranking experience and look forward to working with you again! Thank you for choosing April Fools, Inc.!”

“Thank you,” Sam says. “Thank you, Molly.”

The call disconnects and he lets his hand slide to the floor next to him, the phone a dead weight in his palm. He stares at it, still uncertain, unsure whether he should laugh or cry or get drunk because there’s still a chance this entire thing was just a figment of his imagination. Or a cruel prank. He pushes off the floor and gets up, heading to the kitchen for coffee. It’s Friday night and Dean’s out, which means he won’t be back any time soon. He might as well sort through a couple of MoL document boxes to make himself useful and to pretend like he’s not counting seconds till the moment the last day of March gives way to the first day of April.

He tries his best not to expect anything.

Not to wait.

Ten seconds after midnight.

There’s no grand entry. No fireworks of glitter and candy. No obnoxiously loud music blaring from every corner of the bunker.

Ten seconds after midnight Gabriel walks into Sam's room and wraps his arms around him, burying his face in the crook of Sam's neck.

Sam's still sitting at his desk, sifting through the papers, and for a moment he’s frozen, unable to move. Gabriel's arms tighten around him, and Sam's hand finds Gabriel's all on its own and something inside him breaks into a thousand pieces and mends together again.

He moves, then; turns around in his chair, pulling Gabriel into his lap, wrapping his arms around him, breathing him in.

Gabriel is silent still – not a single word, not even his usual quip, and to Sam this silence speaks a whole lot more than words. He holds him close, closer, presses a soft kiss to Gabriel's hair and feels him smile against his chest.

“You should have gone for Mr. World instead,” Sam says.

“Nah. It would’ve been too obvious. Besides, a whole world of legal issues to follow. Pun intended.”

“It wouldn’t be you if it wasn’t intended.”

“You know me so well, Sammykins. A man after my own heart.”

Sam pulls him into a kiss. Everything still feels like a dream, so he has to make sure. There’s golden fire dancing in Gabriel's pupils and his lips are soft and smiling and Sam can’t help his own smile and even though it’s impossible to kiss and smile at the same time, they manage, somehow.

“Long story. Tell you later?” Gabriel says before Sam can open his mouth to ask the question. “Getting back here is one of the best tricks I pulled, but we still need to do one tiny thing to make sure I don’t play the reverse Cinderella who appears after midnight and disappears with dawn.”

“Company rules,” Sam says.

“Still the smartest guy in these parts, huh?”

“I’m not gonna pretend I understand even half of it, so you’re gonna have to tell your story. Later. But now I believe you owe me a prank?”

“About that,” Gabriel says and falls silent, eyes closed, forehead resting against Sam's.

Sam takes his hand, squeezes. “Whatever it takes.”

“You and I are gonna have to get hitched,” Gabriel says. “If you still want me around, that is.”

“How is that even a question,” Sam says, dropping a kiss on Gabriel's temple. “Idiot.”

Gabriel looks up at him with a worried frown. “It is. I don’t mean just married, I mean – uh – bonded?”

“How is that even a question,” Sam says, kissing him on the nose. “Idiot.”

Gabriel beams, then, and – there he is, _finally,_ laughing and kissing and talking at the same time, and it should be impossible, yet here they are.

“This is my best work,” Gabriel says, tugging at Sam's hand, pressing a kiss to his palm, “everyone can go home now, I’m officially the pranking king, one and true and only, cause you see, Sammy, the only way for me to stick around is to be in the process of pranking you, indefinitely, and it’s – it’s the double flip, see? The prank is that it’s not a prank, so it’s all serious and a legit question – be my bonded? Yes?”

“Yes,” Sam says, “how is that even a question, seriously-”

Gabriel lunges forward, cutting Sam off mid-sentence, and their kiss is desperate and frantic and Sam finally, _finally_ knows that this is real.

Several minutes later they’re interrupted by a series of bangs and Dean’s outraged cries. Sam raises an eyebrow. Gabriel shrugs.

“That,” he says, “was my bonus prank. I’m much valued by the Company, y’know. So, I thought, why not stick to the classics and fill up Dean’s precious baby with glitter.”

“Before you say anything,” Sam says as soon as Dean appears in his doorway, “this was my welcome to the family present for Gabriel.”

“We’re getting married,” Gabriel adds.

They both watch in fascination as half a dozen different emotions flicker across Dean’s face. He crosses the room in a couple of quick strides, jaw set, and wraps them both in a bone-crushing, glittery hug.

“I hate you both,” Dean says. “Congratulations.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like I should explain the whole mr tuesday-mr wednesday-mr world thing - it's a reference to neil gaiman's book, american gods, where odin is named mr wednesday (so sam uses his name to make sure he's right about tuesday being the reference) and mr world is loki's name, hence sam suggesting gabriel should have gone with it. and, well, it's tuesday for obvious canon reasons.   
> american gods is gabriel's favourite book in this verse.
> 
> all of your kudos and comments are greatly appreciated!
> 
> come find me [on tumblr](http://annie-thyme.tumblr.com/) if you feel like it =)


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